The Ransom Fund
by wuemsel
Summary: After a short visit from his father, Hutch shares a childhood memory with Starsky.


Hey guys! This is just a short Hutch´s-family-stinks-story I wrote recently. Somehow I like this version of the Hutchinson Clan. Makes for nice scenes.  
  
Hope you´ll like it.  
  
Disclaimer: I don´t own nothin´ here. Wish I would. (IF I would, I´d never let anything happen to the poohs. Uh uh!)  
  
Enjoy!!!  
  
THE RANSOM FUND  
  
by wuemsel  
  
Starsky was worried. A feeling he didn´t particularly like nor couldn´t actually deal with unless he had something to do about it.  
  
But that wasn´t the case.  
  
Instead of being there with him when his partner faced the monster of monsters, he was seemingly locked up in his own apartment, afraid to leave in case Hutch might call.   
  
Sighing deeply, he sank down on the couch, staring at the black TV screen, then let his gaze wander over the carpet he´d vacuumed at least a hundred times over the slowly passing day. He´d also washed CLEAN dishes and had re-arranged some of the items on his shelves.  
  
In short--he´d reached his own personal point of going nuts.  
  
Checking his watch, he sighed again. Two hours since he´d last thought that maybe it´d be a good idea to call Hutch, let him know he was there, though he wasn´t. But then he didn´t know if the blond and his guest were at Venice Place, anyway. Besides, he didn´t want to disturb anything good that might be happening. There COULD be something good going on, right? They COULD be talking.  
  
'Oh, who am I trying to kid?!'  
  
He was just contemplating about finally turning on the TV, when a faint knock came from the front door, so tentative he´d almost missed it. Off like a shot, he bounced over to the door and opened just in time to stop Hutch from knocking once more.   
  
His hand still hovering in the air, the blond lifted his brows in surprise, then smiled wearily. "Hey."  
  
"Hey," Starsky replied , instantly convinced that, 'nope, they didn´t talk.'   
  
Holding the door open for his friend, he stepped aside a little, the strange mixture of sympathy, concern, anger and pure affection that always swept through him at exactly those occasions, rising.  
  
"Had a nice lunch?" he asked, watching Hutch more shuffle than walk over to the couch, where he sank down heavily.  
  
"Yeah, peachy. Got a beer?"  
  
Starsky smirked, let the door fall shut. Producing two bottles of beer from the fridge, he returned to the couch and sat down on the easy-chair next to his partner. "That great, huh?"  
  
"Oh yeah," Hutch nodded sarcastically, throwing the lid of the bottle over his shoulder unconsciously.  
  
For once, Starsky let him get away with it.  
  
"Better even," the blond continued, then took a large gulp from his beer. "Didn´t have so much fun since..." Trailing off as if searching for an adequate comparison, he finally bowed his head as he once more lifted his beer. "NEVER had SO much fun, I guess."  
  
Unseen, Starsky winced slightly. He knew that look in his partner´s eyes. The 'Hutchinson, Sen. Has Left The Building'-look.  
  
'Right,' the curly haired man thought, swallowing down rising anger he didn´t want Hutch to see reflected on his face, 'and none too early, it looks.'  
  
Not that Mr. Hutchinson, Sen. COULD leave any building too early as far as Starsky was concerned. Especially not Venice Place. Though he would never have said it--because you just didn´t say that sort of things about your best friend´s father--he absolutely detested the man. Hated him.  
  
And a Dave Starsky didn´t hate easy.  
  
"He´s gone now?" he asked after a moment, unnecessarily of course, just to keep the conversation going. Sooner or later his friend would share the events of yet another lunch from hell spent with the head of the Hutchinson Clan with him, he knew that. It was just a matter of time. Just a matter of waiting.  
  
"Huh?" Hutch asked, lifting his head as if snapping out of a trance. "What?"  
  
And, gee, Starsky hated waiting. "Your Dad. Is he gone now or did he want to stay overnight after a-"  
  
"Did I ever tell you I´ve been kidnapped when I was a kid?"  
  
Taken completely off-guard by the question, Starsky stared with his mouth still open. "Uh... Ah... Wh..." he stammered, obviously not going to be released by Hutch, who just blinked at him questioningly. "Wh-what?" the smaller man finally managed. "What d´you mean, 'kidnapped'?"  
  
Despite the content of their conversation, the blond shrugged casually. "You know, kindnapped. Taken. Captured. Held against my will." He paused, seemingly thinking about other synonyms and shrugged again. "Kidnapped."  
  
Starsky doubted his eyes could grow any wider. His mouth opened and closed against his will, until he once more regained his speech. "Wh-when?"  
  
Again, Hutch shrugged, not aware that his partner decided to physically restrain him if he´d do that ONE MORE TIME. "Dunno, when I was twelve or so. Eleven, I think. Really a long time ago. I was just a kid."  
  
Silence followed, Hutch´s fingers busy scrambling the label off the innocent bottle, while his partner watched him with growing unease.   
  
Starsky waited as long as he could, but after a few seconds couldn´t restrain himself any longer. "Well, NO, Hutch," he burst out, "you NEVER told me `bout that. Please do now!"  
  
"Huh?" Hutch said, slightly confused, and looked up to meet his friend´s appalled gaze. "Oh. Yeah, sorry." With a sigh, he put the bottle onto the coffee table and leant back again. "Sorry, Starsk, I´m sorta..." His voice trailing off, he winked with a weak gesture. "Never mind. I shouldn´t have brought it-"  
  
"Never mind?!" Starsky cut him off incredulously. "You´re tellin´ me you´ve been KIDNAPPED when you were just eleven and... Okay," he interrupted himself, drawing in a deep breath. "Sorry I yelled at you. It´s just..." He sighed. "If you don´t wanna talk about it, that´s fin... Well, you know what, actually it´s not. Hell, Hutch, you can´t come here and tell me something like this and then do your 'Blintz Withdrawal Show' on me!"  
  
"My what?" Hutch asked with a confused smile, somewhat touched by his friend´s reaction. He really hadn´t considered his revealing to be such a shock for his partner. But then, he thought, if it were the other way around...   
  
"Calm down, Starsk, okay? It´s not my horrible youth trauma or somethin´. It wasn´t that terrible and I don´t wake up at night screaming because of it, either. I just thought I´d... uh... mention it," he finished lamely, twisting one corner of his mouth to an apologetic wry smile at his ludicrous statement.  
  
His partner studied him closely, all agitation draining from his face, until only sympathy remained. Something had driven Hutch to reveal this particular memory today.   
  
Or someone.  
  
"Okay," the curly haired detective nodded curtly at the blond´s words. "What happened?" He wasn´t sure if he meant back than or earlier that day.  
  
Neither was Hutch, but he chosed to answer the easy question first. "It was on my way home from school. I don´t remember that much," he continued after a moment, leaning forward to grab his beer again. "Just that I heard someone approaching me from behind and then, uh... Well, next thing I know I woke up in complete darkness. Not for long, though," he added as he saw his partner arching his brows in concern. "They, uh, kept me sorta... sedated most of the time."  
  
"Did they hurt you?"  
  
At the softly uttered question, Hutch couldn´t help but smile. Leave it to Starsky to first of all think of that. Not 'Who were they?' or 'What did they want?', but 'Did they hurt you?'  
  
"No," he assured, glancing up at his friend from where he was once more tearing tiny pieces of damp paper from the beer bottle. "No, they didn´t hurt me. Like I said, I was out most of the time. Chloroform. I never saw or heard a thing."  
  
Frowning deeply now, Starsky slid to the edge of the chair as if unconsciously wanting to be nearer. "How long?"  
  
"Uhm, I don´t really..." Hutch started, looking away, thinking. "Maybe two days. Two and a half. Something like that. It all went pretty smooth. They were pros. You know, didn´t hurt the kid, didn´t keep him too long, didn´t have him catch anything," he said as if reading from a 'Ten Steps to a Successful Kidnapping'-Book.   
  
"They did everything right we´ve been told kidnappers usually do wrong," he added ironically, smirking.   
  
Starsky watched, biting back a soothing reply, sensing his friend didn´t need that but his own private way of dealing with things like that--sarcasm. His voice, though, was still soft, caring, when he asked, "You never found out who they were?"  
  
Grimacing slightly, Hutch shook his head. His gaze dropped to the bottle. The label was almost completely gone. "Nope. I always thought they were somehow... connected to, uh, one of my Dad´s clients, but..." Another wry smirk. "Couldn´t have said that, could I? And then it doesn´t really matter, anyway. My parents never called the cops, just paid, and... We don´t really... talk `bout stuff like that, you know?"   
  
Almost shyly, he peeked up at Starsky as if seeking understanding, though he knew he wouldn´t find it. It was a tactic he´d developed some time ago--leaving it to Starsky to react to his family´s ways like he himself would have wanted to but just couldn´t.   
  
Truth was, he didn´t understand his parents, either.   
  
"Yeah," Starsky replied, suppressed exasperation evident in his voice, "I know."  
  
Smiling slightly, almost apologetically, Hutch glanced down as if ashamed.   
  
"Hey," Starsky said after a short pause, gently nudging the blond´s knee until Hutch looked up. "Your parents paid?"  
  
"Yep," Hutch nodded in mock seriousness. "Every single penny. That was the one thing they told me when they came to see me in the hospital--the sum."  
  
"Hospital?" Starsky repeated, instantly appalled again. "I thought-"  
  
"They," Hutch cut him off, stressing the word to make it clear he meant his kidnappers, "brought me to a hospital. And the nurses informed my parents."  
  
"What?"  
  
Giving a short sigh, Hutch explained, "They, uh..." He took a sip from his beer. "They threw me out of a car before the ER entrance. But," he added quickly, seeing concerned cobalt blues widening in shock, "I was unconscious, anyway. Didn´t feel a thing." Watching Starsky slowly stand to sit down on the couch next to him, he smiled despite his following words. "I had to stay a few days. Not long. Just, you know, 'cause of all that chloroform and, uh, dehydration and..."   
  
Noticing the pain working into his partner´s eyes at his account, he cut it off, gentled his voice as if trying to take over the comforting part. "Gordo, don´t look like that. It wasn´t that-"  
  
"You call that not hurtin´?!" Starsky interrupted him. "God, Hutch, you were a kid! Dehydration..." he muttered to himself, before glancing at Hutch again. "Those guys oughta be glad you don´t know who they were! I´d... What?!" he asked in a high-pitched voice at Hutch´s chuckle, though amused himself, having to admit he sounded like the imbodiement of a mother hen. "I mean it! No one kidnaps my partner!"  
  
Laughing, Hutch patted his arm. "Thanks, buddy. If I ever find them, I´ll let them know they´re in danger."  
  
Joining in for a moment, Starsky contemplated about his next question, but when Hutch seemingly lost himself in thoughts again, scratching at blank bottle glass now, he took a deep breah as if bracing himself. "Hutch, what happened today? I mean, hey, don´t get me wrong, but why´re you telling me this today? Of all days?"  
  
Hutch didn´t answer. Every sign of amusement drained from his features.  
  
"What did you father say to you?" Starsky tried, glancing at his friend, but keeping his distance. "Hutch?"  
  
"Uhm..." the blond started, not looking up. "I-I... I always wanted to... uhm..." He sighed deeply. "Oh man." Briefly closing his eyes, before looking at his partner, he said: "I saved money. When I started to earn my own money, you know, after the academy, I-I saved some of it every month. T-to... I wanted to pay it back," he said and paused as if he only then realized what his words truly meant. What his action symbolized.   
  
"I wanted to pay my parents the money back. All of it. So I started to save a bit every month. My 'Ransom Fund'," he added with a wry smile.  
  
Starsky stared at him much like before, his chin traveling south.  
  
Hutch glanced up, then away again. "Stupid, huh?"  
  
"No," his partner hurried to say, dismay coloring his voice. "No, not stupid. Not at all. Just... Did you really feel you had to do that?"  
  
Hutch didn´t answer.  
  
"They´re your parents, Hutch. I mean, sure, they´re fu... Uh, they´re... mean," he quickly corrected, missing the blond´s amused grin, "but they´re still your Mom and Dad. They love you. Don´t you think they´re glad they paid, no matter how much it was? Hey," he continued after a short pause, when Hutch still hadn´t looked up at him, "c´mon, Blintz, look at me."  
  
Slowly, Hutch complied. The sadness in his light blue eyes was almost more than Starsky could endure. Still, he forced himself to say his say and not just hug the miserable figure. "I don´t think they ever wanted you to do that. It wasn´t your fault, and they know it. They´re just too..." He shrugged helplessly, before finishing, "weird to admit it, but they´d do everything for you. They´re your parents," he repeated himself.   
  
Hutch looked at him, visibly moved by his words. Yet, there was something shimmering in his eyes Starsky couldn´t quite read. Something scary, though. "Hutch," he started again after a pause, turning on the sofa and dragging one leg up so that he fully faced the blond. "What is it? C´mon, tell me. What happened today?"  
  
No answer. Just the bobbing of Hutch´s Adam´s apple as he swallowed back a few tears.   
  
The silence unnerved Starsky, and he couldn´t help reaching out to nudge Hutch´s cheek affectionately. "Hey," he urged. "You can tell me. Did your father say something?"  
  
'One day,' he thought, unable to push back the flood of thoughts, 'I´m gonna call that son of a bitch and... Oh, Dave, c´mon, shut up, willya? It´s Hutch´s DAD for crying out loud!'  
  
"Hutch," he repeated, almost pleading by now, and was finally rewarded with a shaky breath and Hutch lifting his hands to wipe over his eyes.   
  
"Uhm..." the blond started and to Starsky´s dismay smiled nervously. "He... H-he asked `bout, you know, i-if I was seeing anyone right now, and I said no, well..." The smile grew into a very sad laugh that tore at Starsky´s heart. "I-I told him I´m... you know, dating, but not..." His gaze dropped once more as he continued, "I just told him the truth. That I haven´t had a real relation-ship for some time now. That I haven´t met the right girl, yet." If possible, his tone grew even more sad. "The kinda crap I always tell him."  
  
Starsky felt himself frown in shared pain, but remained silent. The expression on Hutch´s face made it clear that that had been the wrong answer for Mr. Hutchinson, Sen.  
  
"I don´t know what was with him today," Hutch continued with a sigh, "normally, that line works." Sarcasm covered his feelings again, his inner shield rose almost visibly.  
  
Yet Starsky knew him too well to fall for it. "Hutch," he said quietly. "What did he say?"  
  
Hutch glanced up, blinked, looked down, his voice just above a whisper. "He said I´m too old to look for the 'right girl'. He said that i-if... if I wouldn´t, you know, settle down soon, I´d never make it. H-he said..." Again, rising tears had to be swallowed back. "He said that it´s important to have a family to... to have children, b-because of the, uh, the survival of the family, yaddah, yaddah." Again, a bitter laugh broke free. "God, he´s so full of this shit, isn´t he? Survival of the family. Jeez."  
  
"Hutch," Starsky said, not demanding, not impatient, but just enough of a sound to stop his partner´s self-defending rambling. They hadn´t yet reached the part that´d really hurt.  
  
Hutch closed his eyes. "He said that I´m..." He trailed off.  
  
"He said you´re what?" Starsky urged ever so softly.  
  
"Stupid," the blond whispered, not opening his eyes.  
  
Starsky could have screamed with fury, but found his voice miraculously quiet. "He said you´re stupid?"  
  
Hutch nodded. "Yep." He sniffed. "He said that if he had waited for the right one, he´d st-still be waiting, that I´m too naive. Too soft. Too... stupid. He said I´ve never grown up and never will, th-that I´ll always be waiting a-and..." His voice broke badly, but he caught it, cleared his throat. "That I´ll always be alone. B-because no one will ever have me. No one will have someone as weak as me. He said I´m a... a failure, a..." He drew in a deep breath, before his voice could break again, and rubbed his forehead, his eyes open now. "I failed to follow my duty as a member of the Hutchinson family."  
  
The fact that his friend missed to add 'he said' to his description wasn´t lost on Starsky.  
  
"I´m never going to have a family, a-and I... I don´t WANT to have a family like... like THAT," Hutch continued, a brief flash of anger tinging the words. "I don´t want to be a father like he was. Is," he added and for the first time since his outburst, shot Starsky a quick, almost frightened look. "I don´t wanna be like him. But I don´t want to be... alone," his voice faded to a whisper, "either."  
  
Watching the tall, strong, tough street cop Ken Hutchinson almost huddle in the corner of his couch, looking so lost, so alone, so utterly and completely desperate, Starsky couldn´t help but wonder with all the naivety within himself, how anyone could ever look at the man and WANT to hurt him like that. How anyone who knew Hutch could say those things to him. How a father could watch his son emotionally writhe under the impact of his words, and just keep on tormenting him.  
  
'Maybe I´ve been wrong after all,' Starsky thought as he still watched Hutch silently studying the bottle in his hands, 'maybe your father doesn´t love you. Maybe your father can´t love anyone. Maybe he really is what I always thought he is.'  
  
"Your Dad really said all that?" he heard himself ask, shocked, and inwardly cringed at his tone.  
  
Hutch nodded and looked up. At his partner´s expression, he smiled humorlessly. "He had one of his better days." The grin faded. "I´m... I´m not like... him, huh?" he asked tentatively as if afraid of the answer. "Right? Starsk? I´m not like m-my D-Dad, am I?"  
  
Seeing that his friend was on the verge of tears, Starsky reached out to draw him in a comforting hug. Gratefully, Hutch sagged against him, bathing in the relieving sensation that someone cared about him after all.  
  
"God, no, Hutch, of course you´re not," the smaller man answered almost grimly, "you´re not like your father. Your father´s an asshole, and you´re a great person. There´s a difference."  
  
Feeling Hutch´s chuckle against his shoulder, he smiled. "Uh, sorry. Shouldn´t have said that."  
  
"Nah, `sokay," Hutch grinned, relaxing a little. "I won´t tell him you said it."  
  
'Maybe you should,' Starsky thought, but remained quiet, stroking Hutch´s hair for a few seconds, before he pushed him away gently to look at him. "Hutch, you don´t believe a word he said, right?" Bending to look into a quickly withdrawing gaze, he repeated, "Right?"  
  
Hutch shrugged. "Dunno."  
  
"Oh, Blondie, come on, since when do you give a damn `bout what your father thinks, huh? He´s just mean. Of course you´ll have a family one day, and you´ll be a great father, and you know it. Kids love you. And women do too," he added with a grin. "At least until you show `em your car."  
  
Hutch cuckled slightly at that, but didn´t look up.  
  
"And when you´ll have a family, it´ll be a REAL one, not what you ha... I-I mean... Oh, sorry Blintz, I know I shouldn´t say that, but gee, if your old man was here now, I´d-"  
  
"I know," Hutch cut him off with a grin. "I know. It´s okay, Starsk, I understand."   
  
"No, you don´t," Starsky insisted when the blond´s sad gaze traveled down again. "I´m serious. How can he SAY things like that to you?! I don´t get it! What the hell´s wrong with this man?! Doesn´t he know his son´s the greatest guy on earth?! How can he say you´re stupid?! You´re NOT stupid, you´re a fucking genius! I mean, me, okay, I know I´m not Whathisname-"  
  
"Einstein," Hutch mumbled, grinning slightly when realizing it´d been a Starsky-comfort-crack.  
  
"Yeah, that guy," Starsky continued, not letting on he´d been joking.  
  
"Starsk, c´mon, you´re not-"  
  
"Shut up," Starsky cut him off gently. "My show now."  
  
Amused, Hutch obeyed, raising his hand in an 'after you'-gesture, his heart filling with grateful affection for this man who always--ALWAYS--knew what to do or say to make things better. And if it was 'shut up'.  
  
"And how can he say you´re too soft?! I´d love to see HIM doing our job one day! And..." He had to stop to draw in air, Hutch watching with an amused grin. "How the HELL can he say you´ve never grown up?! I thought he met ME?!"  
  
Now, the blond really had to laugh, and shrugged for an answer. He had to admit it was sort of touching that Starsky remembered every single accusation he´d told him about.  
  
"AND," Starsky said after yet another breath, holding up one hand, "wait, I´m finished in a sec--how can you BELIEVE him?!" The question was almost squealed out, his voice cracking. "You´re not stupid, you´re not naive, you´re going to have a great family one day and you´re NOT alone!" Listening to his own words, he repeated in a more quiet, earnest voice, "You´re not."  
  
Silence followed, filled with unspoken words, as the two detectives looked at each other, a smile spreading on both their faces.  
  
"I guess I know that," Hutch finally said.  
  
"You GUESS you know that?"  
  
The blond chuckled. "I know it."  
  
"Hm-mm," Starsky nodded like a teacher after having heard the right answer on second try.   
  
"I haven´t said yet why I told you `bout my Ransom Fund."  
  
Frowning as if just remembering that, Starsky tilted his head to one side. "Right. So, why did you?"  
  
Hutch paused, looked at him nervously, then down, then up again, then down.   
  
"C´mon, Blondie, spill it."  
  
"I want to... buy this house you´ve been talking about." There. He´d said it. When only silence answered, he slowly lifted his head, his brows arched questioningly.  
  
Starsky stared.  
  
"Uh... Starsk?"  
  
"You what?!"  
  
"I want to buy a house with you. A real house," Hutch added after a second, rolling his eyes, "not something like that heap you came up with the last time."  
  
Starsky stared.  
  
"W-well, it´s not THAT much what I´ve got," Hutch continued, starting to ramble a little, "but it should suffice for something we both like. And that we don´t have to tear down and re-built," he wise-cracked, still referring to the desaster they´d experienced the first time Starsky had come up with the idea.   
  
"So," Hutch shrugged, feeling suddenly unsecure as his partner still hadn´t uttered his opinion, "what d´you say?"  
  
Starsky blinked, closed his mouth, blinked again.  
  
"Y-you don´t wanna buy a house with me anymore?" Hutch asked.  
  
"No," his partner hurried to say. "I mean, yes. I mean, yes, I still want to, but... Hutch, you never liked the idea."  
  
"Well, I do now."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"What d´you mean 'why'? `Cause you´re my best friend and I want to, uh... Why did YOU want it in the first place?" he asked, feeling himself getting exasperated, since he had imagined the conversation to be completely different.  
  
"I liked the idea of having a house," Starsky answered quietly. "As an investment."  
  
"With me."  
  
"Yeah, with you."  
  
"So, what, now you don´t like the idea anymore?" Hutch demanded, not understanding. "I don´t ask you to, I don´t know, LIVE with me or something, I just-"  
  
"You just," Starsky interrupted him softly, "want to do something with the money you saved to show your parents what you thought of them a long time ago, and the first thing you wondered was what I would like."  
  
A small frown crawled over the blond´s forehead. "The way you say it it suddenly sounds dumb."  
  
"No," Starsky shook his head with a smile, "not dumb. Just very... hutchy."  
  
"Hutchy," Hutch repeated tonelessly.  
  
"Yeah," Starsky grinned, gesturing. "It sounds like something you´d do."  
  
"Maybe that´s because I AM doing it."  
  
"But I don´t want you to do it."  
  
"Why not?!" Hutch shot back, angry.  
  
Yet Starsky remained calm, as always when he sensed that for once it was his partner´s turn to act unreasonable. "Because this has nothing to do with me. I think it´s great that you want to do something with your Ransom Fund, because it´s horrible that it´s THERE," he said raising his brows.  
  
Sometimes, Hutch couldn´t help but wonder when his friend had become so unendurably wise...  
  
"I think you SHOULD do something with it," Starsky continued, "but not for me."  
  
Hutch bowed his head.  
  
"Whatever you do with the money has to be for YOU." A pause, then, "But if you want my opinion, I´d highly advice you to get a new car." He waggled his brows, and Hutch laughed, before turning serious again.  
  
"If I... do this," the blond said, putting his bottle back on the coffee table, "it´d be for me."  
  
Starsky sighed. "Hutch-"  
  
"No, listen. You´re right, I did think of something for us, but... Well, US," he repeated, gesturing with his index finger between them. "I don´t want to give it back to my parents, because I..." He chuckled. "Because my Dad pissed me off majorily today."  
  
At Starsky´s stifled laughter, he himself giggled for a moment, then continued, "He doesn´t deserve it, anyway. If he didn´t want me back, he shouldn´t have paid."  
  
"Aw, God, babe, don´t say that," Starsky pleaded, his brows arched to a sick puppy look as he felt his share of the pain that flickered through his friend´s eyes. "I´m glad he paid."  
  
Hutch smiled. "See? YOU´re glad." The smile faded. "HE´s not." He paused. When he spoke again, determination brightly colored his words. "I want to have something together with you. And if it´s a house, than it´s a house." A sudden snort introduced a wry grin. "Don´t get me wrong, buddy--NO fixer upper this time. Either the thing is in one piece or it´s a scratch on the list. Got that?"  
  
Starsky smiled, but didn´t nod. He wasn´t convinced yet, Hutch could see it.  
  
"I guess," he started once more, bit his lip, and studied the floor once more, "I want to have some... security."  
  
"Security?"  
  
Hutch nodded, didn´t look up. "If we have a house, we can always... I-I mean, then, one day wh-when you have a family, you could live there a-and..." He laughed nervously. "I don´t know, maybe there´ll be some little room under the roof left for old Uncle Hutch, too. I-I mean... I..."  
  
A sudden sniff cut him off. Starsky bent forward, trying to look into Hutch´s face, but didn´t quite manage. "Hutch?"  
  
"I don´t want to be alone." The miserable whisper was followed by a small whimper, almost like a stifled sob, and Starsky instantly slid nearer on the couch, laying one arm around Hutch´s shoulders as the blond sniffed against tears that threatened to fall. "I´m *sniff* sorry I´m such a baby. *sniff* I´m just... *sniff*" His voice dropped even more, as he closed his eyes and let his head fall forward into his hands. "God, Starsk, I hate him."  
  
"I know, Hutch," Starsky soothed. "It´s okay. I hate him too."  
  
Hutch laughed through his sniffle, glancing up at his partner. "He´s not that fond of you, either, you know."  
  
"Gee, who´d have thought."  
  
Chuckling some more, the blond leaned back again, facing Starsky. "If you really don´t want it, we don´t have to buy a house. I just liked... the idea," he grinned, using Starsky´s words.  
  
The other one smiled. "You know, Blintz, coming to think about it, I sorta like the idea of having old Uncle Hutch available every time Mrs Gordo and I want to have an evening off. And," he added, his grin widening, "I guess I can handle six or seven little Blintzes too when you and-"  
  
"Six or seven?!"  
  
Laughing at his friend´s mock shock, Starsky waggled his brows. "Yeah, I figured that we could have equally large teams for the Sunday Baseball-"  
  
"Dream on, Gordo," Hutch chuckled, and asked, "So--you mean that?"  
  
"I definiately want to have lots of ki-"  
  
"`Bout the house, mushbrain."  
  
Starsky grinned. "Yeah. Mean it. If you do."  
  
"I do."  
  
They sat in silence for some time, both suddenly lost in dreams of the days to come.  
  
"Hutch?" Starsky finally asked in a low voice.  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"How much was it?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"The ransom."  
  
"Oh." A pause. "350 000."  
  
Silence. No whistle, no 'wow', nothing. Then, "Good deal. I´d have paid more."  
  
Hutch smiled. "Oh yeah?"  
  
"Sure. You know how expensive an original Blintz is on the free market?" NOW the whistle came. "Prohibitive."  
  
Laughter broke through the silence that soon fell again, like a blanket, over the two dreaming friends.  
  
THE END 


End file.
